I thought about this all the time; about which of my selves was on display at any given moment, about what separated one self from the next. I realize now that I certainly didn't pioneer the concept, but it is something I still think about.
This outfit represents one of my selves. I don't have a name for her, but I can tell you about her.
She loves books, and words, and language. She reads poetry and listens to music that makes her heart sing. She had good handwriting and draws pretty doodles in the corners of pieces of paper while she's talking on the phone.
She has a great smile, and she's a good friend — she'll lift you up if you are feeling down, and remind you that you are a good person who is deserving of love.
She can paint, and draw, and sing, and sew. She teaches her daughter to dance the waltz and the polka, whirling around the sunlit kitchen while old-fashioned music blares out of small speakers.
She says hi to passing cats, and to the moon. She calls her mother every Saturday. She knows the names of flowers, and trees, and birds (a few). She makes a mean apple pie.
She is a mother, a daughter and a wife, and inside a lot of the time she still feels like the little girl who spent endless afternoons daydreaming, head in a book or lost in a private reverie.
This is not who I am all the time. But this person is in me. And though she may get lost at times, it is a comfort to me to know she is still in there.
Sweater: ModCloth, gift
Blouse, skirt: Thrifted
Shoes: Freebie at thrift sale
Total cost to me: About $16